


and don't lie to me (but don't tell me the truth)

by Warriorcrazy



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ferdinand cuts his hair, Ferdinand has self-esteem issues, Ferdinand is sad, He doesn't know who he is, Hubert is a good person, M/M, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), other characters are mentioned but they don't warrant a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23710714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warriorcrazy/pseuds/Warriorcrazy
Summary: Ferdinand learns to find worth in himself in a post-Crimson Flower route world. Hubert helps him find his way.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 8
Kudos: 69





	and don't lie to me (but don't tell me the truth)

**Author's Note:**

> Sad, self-loathing Ferdinand came to me as an idea and gave me brain worms. I originally was going to have this be sad all the way through but am a sucker for a happy ending. 
> 
> major thanks to my friend biz for beta-ing <3

Ferdinand Von Aegir was many things - the Prime Minister of the Empire, a friend of many, and a winner of a war - but yet he felt like he was nothing. He had many things to be grateful for now - Hubert’s companionship, Edelgard’s respect, a (relative) time of peace and he couldn’t help but feel unsatisfied. Ironically, despite the success and achievements he and the Empire had achieved he had never felt more uncertain. He felt like he was seventeen again, begging for Edelgard’s respect and aching for Hubert’s friendship - he had both of those things now.

And yet.

_And yet._

He sat in another council meeting, powerful ministers by his side, him being the most important of them, and felt like he had no idea what he was doing. Edelgard and Byleth sat at the head of the table, Hubert on one side, he on the other. Such a common occurrence it felt like a routine to him. Ferdinand shuffled his papers in front of him, smoothing his palms down his breeches and worrying his lip between his teeth.

He remembered, at one point, that these council meetings were interesting and captivated his attention, directly after the war. Now, though, almost a full year and a half later, his stomach rolled over in anxiety as he stared at Hubert and Edelgard, still caught up in their own little world, a world he had never felt privy to. Hubert leaned over to murmur something into Edelgard’s ear, as Manuela, the Minister of Health, spoke about the new health policies in former Faerghus, now known as Northern Fodlan. 

“The policies are working well, according to Ingrid,” Manuela said, snapping Ferdinand out of his thought as he pressed his quill to the paper, “the cases of famine went down significantly this past winter and these facts were furthered by Mercedes - she admitted fewer orphans as fewer parents were dying.” Most of the council made appreciative noises at her statement, Edelgard giving Manuela a smile as Hubert finished...whatever he was saying to Edelgard. The desire of being included, a feeling so, so familiar to him, reared its ugly head and he swallowed hard, forcing himself to gaze at Manuela. 

The topic moved on and Ferdinand brushed a lock of hair behind his ear, leaning forward to take a sip of water that had been placed by...someone earlier. Another minister started to speak - he believed Lysithea if he focused hard enough - but he was struggling to focus on her, instead of focusing on Hubert. 

Light green eyes met his, a breezy nonchalance in them, though there was a hidden emotion there. Ferdinand had known Hubert quite a long time - seven years, almost - and he still could not decipher what that expression meant. He knew Hubert didn’t despise him - they had too close of a bond for that - but he wondered in these moments when Hubert’s gaze was on him if Hubert trusted him at all.

Ferdinand broke their gaze quickly though, a flush forming on his cheeks, not wanting to cause suspicion. He forced his gaze to Lysithea, who was speaking about the concerns Eastern Fodlan’s (the former Leicester Alliance) commonfolk had brought up to her. Ferdinand attempted to focus on Lysithea’s words but he was acutely aware of Hubert’s careful gaze on him. 

Finally, after what seemed like days, Edelgard adjourned the meeting and several ministers stood up, making small talk with one another. Ferdinand was no different, even if he was a little more scatterbrained than usual. His smile felt brittle on his face, almost as if he smiled for too long it would crack into pieces and fall. He spoke quicker and more frazzled than he normally did but he did his best to appear normal.

 _Normal._ What quite was that, anymore? Had he been acting normal since the war ending? Who, in the entirety of the empire, even knew how Ferdinand acted when he was normal? Certainly not the people who had known him in the war - he had been fierce and sworn to Edelgard, worrying day in and day out if they would win the war. Not his classmates, from Garreg Mach, who saw him as a nobleman only, who wanted to best Edelgard. He was - well. That was the crux of the problem, was it not? He had a role to perform, a job to strive for, his whole life. In this post-war world, what was Ferdinand’s purpose? 

Ferdinand saw Lorenz’ dead eyes all around him all the time - the blood dripping out from the wound on his side where Ferdinand had struck him with his lance, the sound of the sickening thump of Lorenz’s body falling off his horse. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept fully, his days filled with paperwork and brief moments of reprieve where his body simply collapsed in exhaustion. Ferdinand was always a person who needed to be moving to feel productive and he felt no different in this post-wartime. Hubert had said once, in the early stems of their friendship, that Ferdinand’s best quality was his optimism and sunny disposition. At the time, Ferdinand had thought it a compliment - but now, he wonders if it was an insult. 

_“Ferdinand, would you like to be the Prime Minister of the Empire?”_ Edelgard had asked him, once the war had been won, a rare, but beautiful smile stretched across her features. Ferdinand had said yes - it was what he had been training to be since he was a child. But Edelgard had given him no guidelines - it seemed she trusted him implicitly. Before - and even during the war - he would have been overjoyed but this testament of trust. Now, though? Ferdinand was just overwhelmed with how little guidelines he had.

He stared at Edelgard and Hubert, huddled together, discussing the politics of the country, not haunted by their actions during the warlike Ferdinand is. He has known since his academy days and he knows now, in the post-war days - he will never be a part of their world. He lives adjunct to it and there is nothing he can do to crack the door open and demand to be in. He is fragile, he is soft, he is weak. He is not like Hubert, he is not like Edelgard, he is not like Byleth - they are strong, they can stare down the sharpness of a blade without flinching. He is soft where they are hard, he is fragile where they are durable, he is _weak_ where they are strong. And there is no room for weakness in the Empire, his father taught him that. Ferdinand does not know where he belongs - not with Hubert and Edelgard and Byleth, who are so much better than them in every perceived notion - and if he does not belong in the empire, it is with the sobering realization that Ferdinand belongs nowhere at all.

“Ferdinand,” Hubert’s voice, low and raspy, startled Ferdinand as he spun around, “can I speak to you for a moment?” A sense of dread rose up in his stomach but he forced himself to keep a smile on his face as he replied, “Certainly, Hubert.” 

The other ministers filed out of the room, having heard Hubert’s request, including Edelgard and Byleth. Edelgard gave them both a smile as she followed Byleth out and Ferdinand’s plastic and the brittle smile stayed on his features. Once the two had left the chambers, Ferdinand turned and focused his gaze on Hubert’s. Hubert looked back; his gaze clearly assessing him, facial expression carefully blank. Ferdinand recognized the look on his eyes - it was the face he had when determining if someone was a liar. They stood, staring at each other, both quiet for a long moment. Just as Ferdinand began to grow uncomfortable, Hubert opened his mouth and asked,

“Are you all right, Ferdinand?” The question took Ferdinand off guard and he simply gaped at Hubert for several seconds. _Are you all right, Ferdinand?_ It was such a simple question to answer, a simple _yes_ or _no._ However, Ferdinand had no idea how to answer and simply blinked at Hubert, struggling to figure out he could lie convincingly. He refused to tell the truth to Hubert which was, simply put, _No, Hubert I am not alright. Every day feels like a battle, everyone knows what they are doing except for me, I do not feel like I belong here._

Ferdinand said none of that, of course. The time of nobility has passed but the noble customs are still forever ingrained within him. 

“Of course I am,” Ferdinand answered, after a much too long pause, smiling as he responded. The smile he was sure looked more like a grimace and it was clear that the attempted smile had no effect on Hubert. Hubert frowned at his response, his expression almost looking like _worry._ Before Ferdinand could scramble to find something to say, Hubert simply nodded once and turned his heel, exiting the room. 

Ferdinand just stared after him, blinking for several seconds, before shaking his head with a laugh. Of course, Hubert didn’t care about the fact that Ferdinand was obviously lying, Hubert didn’t care about him all. Who was he kidding? 

Ferdinand exited the meeting room, in a little bit of a daze and headed to his office, as the working day was not yet finished. His feet moved one in front of the other but if someone were to ask he would not remember reaching his office. Without much of a thought, he suddenly appeared at his office doors and entered, shutting the heavy oak doors behind. 

His mind was racing a hundred miles a minute, thoughts not staying central and flying all around his head. He tried to catch onto one thought so he could feel more centered but he couldn’t focus that hard. He sat down in his chair, his breathing increasing rapidly. 

_You’re a failure,_ his mind whispered, not in his own voice but a voice so familiar to him - his father’s. _You should be embarrassed to call yourself a Von Aegir, you do not deserve the title,_ his father snarled, a voice he had foolishly thought was long gone. _How can you expect to lead a country when you can not even help yourself?_ That thought is not a whisper like the others, it’s his own voice, shouting loudly.

Ferdinand tried to breathe, the air getting stuck somewhere in his lungs, and he breathed in shakily. As he did, his tongue brushed his lower lip and it’s at the point that Ferdinand realized he’s crying. Once the realization came, the tears fell quickly down his face and he furiously rubbed a hand at his face. 

_Stop crying,_ he thought to himself, as he gulped in large pockets of air, trying to get himself to stop. It didn’t work - the tears came harder and he hiccuped, placing his head in his hands, strands of hair falling onto his hands. _Failure. Worthless. You will never amount to anything._ The three phrases were like a chant in his mind as he cried, morphing from his father’s voice to Edelgard’s, to Hubert’s, to Lorenz’s and finally to his the most horrifying of them all - his own. 

When it reached his own voice though, his tears slowed down, and suddenly he could focus more clearly. Other people may believe him to be worthless and failure but _himself?_ He’d always been his own biggest supporter, his own biggest fan - he’d never say that about himself. _Get over yourself, Ferdinand. It’s just your mind playing tricks on you._ He rubbed at his eyes, blinking to get the remaining tears out and looked up, catching his reflection in the mirror. 

His eyes were red and puffy, obviously showing that he’d been crying. His green eyes looked at him sorrowfully in the mirror, showcasing far more vulnerability than Ferdinand was comfortable with. His pale skin was blotchy and flushed, further evidence that he’d been crying. And his hair, long and unruly, made him look like a mess. He couldn’t stop staring at it, his eyes transfixed on his hair, his hair, _his stupid, long, disgusting hair -_

He snapped to his feet, his hands scrambling for something sharp. His hair had to go - he couldn’t keep looking at that face in the mirror, seeing the long hair and reminding him of the worst times of his life. He frantically looked around his office, shrugging out of his outerwear so he could move easier around his office. His eyes blinked at a glare of a glinting object and with a start, he remembered he had a sword in his office. Specifically, it was an old sword of Felix’s that was gifted to him by Felix after Ferdinand, desperate to get Felix to like him, managed to best Felix in a sparring match. 

He’s moving before he even fully grasped what the sword was. He gripped the handle in his hands and stared down at it, chest falling and rising rapidly. Was he really going to cut his hair? People liked him more with the longer hair, right? What if Hubert’s opinion changed because -

 _No._ Ferdinand was going to focus on Ferdinand now. He was going to prove himself that he was worth it and today was going to be a turning over a new leaf. Before he could change his mind, he swung the sword up and made a swipe through his hair. Hair was a harder thing to cut through then Ferdinand expected, struggling with a knot halfway through his head. He shoved through it, squeezing his eyes shut as his head fell forward, eons lighter than it had been moments before.

He looked down at the floor, at the heaps of ugly, knotted hair. The hand that was holding the sword slowly moved back and touched the back of his head. Damn it all. His hair was _short_ now. Of course not as short as it had been at the Academy - it still had some length to it. His palm opened and he slowly moved his fingers through it, his fingers still getting caught on the small remaining knots. He, foolishly, had cut his hair while not looking at the mirror, too scared to see him complete what felt like a final act. He looked up, finally at the mirror on his desk, to see what he looked like and he blinked at the face staring back at him. 

His hair was just around Felix’s length during the war. His hair had grown out since then, almost back to the way it was in his academy days but Ferdinand’s hair mirrored that messy, unkempt look. He blinked at his expression in the mirror, curling the hair just behind his ears and trying to smooth it out so it looked more like what a leader of a country should have. 

His eyes were still puffy and red and his throat felt scratchy and it _hurt_ in a way where he felt he had swallowed a thorn bush. He gave a gentle cough in an attempt to clear his throat and stop the pain when his office door swung open.

“Ferdinand, I am sorry to disturb you, but I noticed you were -” Hubert’s voice startled Ferdinand so much he dropped the sword in his hands.t clattered loudly on the ground. Ferdinand turned his head to stare at Hubert, who was holding two cups, the mingled scents of tea and coffee drifting across the room. He watched as Hubert’s eyes, normally blank and expressionless with the occasional glimmer of approval or mirth, widened, presumably, in shock.

Ferdinand wondered what a sight he made. Orange hair on the floor, red and puffy eyes, tear tracks likely still stained on his face - Hubert was likely losing all the respect Ferdinand had tried so hard to gain from him. The two stared at one another, not saying anything, for several seconds. 

“Ferdinand-”

  
“Hubert-”

Both voices started at once and Ferdinand cut himself off first, his face flushing. Hubert moved forward and gently put the two cups down on Ferdinand’s desk. The office was still quiet and Ferdinand didn’t know what to say, as he lowered his head to stare at his desk. What could he possibly tell Hubert?

“You might want Dorothea to take another look at your hair,” Hubert said, his voice strong and steady. Ferdinand’s head snapped back, startled that Hubert had said anything at all. He fully expected for Huber to just _leave._

“The shorter hair is _certainly_ a call back to our academy days. It resembles Yuri’s the way it was when we first met him and in not a good way .” Hubert’s voice sounded almost _teasing_ near the end, and while his face still resembled a look of concern, his voice tried to carry some mirth, however, forced. The idea that Hubert wasn’t going to make a big deal out of this sent a shock of relief through Ferdinand. A laugh erupted from his throat, strained and uncomfortable, but a laugh all the same. A hand ruffled through his hair, trying to smooth it out. 

“I…I supposed I needed a change, Hubert. The war’s been long over, I should change my hair to reflect it, yes?” Ferdinand said, a smile coming across his face. This time the smile still felt shaky but much more natural than the ones he had been forcing for the last several weeks. He could tell Hubert knew that the smile was more genuine because a ghost of a smile played on Hubert’s face.

“Yes, change is good. If we didn’t believe that, we would still be living under Rhea’s rule, hmm?” Ferdinand laughed, the sound from his throat still raspy and scratchy, but it was slowly starting to sound much more like himself. The debilitating feeling of self-hate and worthlessness were vanishing quickly - and it was all thanks to Hubert’s presence and words. 

“May I…?” Ferdinand asked, reaching out for one of the cups. Hubert with a muffled snort, nodded, gesturing to the cup that contained his tea. Ferdinand lifted the cup and took a sip, the sweet smell of his favorite Southern Fruit Blend, making him smile.

Hubert lifted his own cups to his lips, taking a sip of his coffee, which Ferdinand secretly hoped was the blend that Ferdinand had purchased for him as a gift for Hubert’s birthday. 

“Do you truly think I look like Yuri, from all those years ago?” Ferdinand asked, holding the mug tight against his chest, the warmth soothing him. Hubert gave a delicate shrug and took another sip. 

“I mean, I find you considerably more attractive than I found Yuri at the time.” Hubert cut himself off, clearing his throat, and Ferdinand can just make out the hint of a flush high on his cheeks. Ferdinand flushed as well more so at Hubert’s flush rather than his words. Honestly, Ferdinand thought, he had always found Hubert more attractive when he blushed - wait. Hubert’s words finally settled in Ferdinand’s brain.

If Hubert had found Yuri attractive back in the academy days, that meant…no. There was no way that was impossible. Hubert couldn’t find Ferdinand - messy, overbearing, unlikable Ferdinand - _attractive?_ Hubert’s flush was still quite obvious on his cheeks which meant, _which meant that Hubert was telling the truth._

Ferdinand’s brain short-circuited for a second, his mind reeling that a man as wonderful, as interesting, and as competent as Hubert could find someone like Ferdinand attractive. Ferdinand who had leftover tear tracks on his face, who hadn’t looked presentable in his years because of the war, Ferdinand who Hubert used to despite - apparently that Hubert found him attractive. 

Unable to stop himself, Ferdinand laughed, though if one overheard they would say it sounded more like a young schoolgirl giggle. He felt like a schoolgirl, having his first experience of someone you admired admitting they liked you. The flush in Hubert's cheeks deepened.

“I- Hubert. I-I am glad you find me...attractive. I have to admit I think the same of you, as well.” Ferdinand’s face felt as if it were on fire as he spoke, but it was worth it once he saw Hubert’s reaction. Hubert’s face, which had been pointed at the ground because of his embarrassment, was now facing Ferdinand directly. His eyes were wide and startled, having clearly not expected Ferdinand’s words. They stared at each other for a couple of moments, completely quiet, and just as Ferdinand’s started to panic and wanted to take it back - Hubert smiled.

There was a small quirk of lips and the flush deepened on his cheeks. Ferdinand smiled back at him, letting another moment pass Ferdinand felt giddy and a little bit of emotional whiplash at how quickly his emotions had shifted. It had just been minutes ago that he had been crying, feeling awful about himself. 

He knew Hubert’s admission - his confession, if you will - wasn’t going to change that. Ferdinand would still feel like that; he’d been battling that feeling of worthlessness all his life. But maybe, with Hubert’s support, it would be a little easier to fight. 

“Ferdinand,” Hubert said, “I, I quite admire you. You might even say, I like you. If we were speaking like school children.” As he spoke, Hubert had moved forward, placing his coffee cup down on the desk, and was staring into Ferdinand’s eyes. If Ferdinand thought correctly, it was almost as if Hubert was going to _kiss_ him. Hubert stopped abruptly, mere inches from Ferdinand. Ferdinand put down his tea and stared into Hubert’s eyes, holding his breath, daring him to move first. Hubert’s eyes drifted downwards for a second, almost towards Ferdinand's mouth, before Hubert’s gloved hand jutted out and grasped Ferdinand’s.

Hubert’s gloves, as always, were soft and smooth as they grasped Ferdinand’s, and he watched in wonderment, almost frozen, as Hubert lifted Ferdinand’s hand up to his lips, brushing a kiss over the back of it. Ferdinand felt a rush of fondness, then confusion, then worry. Was there a reason Hubert hadn’t kissed him? Was there something wrong with him? Did Hubert suspect he had bad breath? Ferdinand _never_ had bad breath - he used breath mints after every meal!

Wait. Ferdinand was an idiot. (And so was Hubert.)

With the number of times, Hubert had overheard Ferdinand’s lectures to Sylvain on his poor courting practices, Hubert had presumed that Ferdinand would find it...improper to kiss before courting. Ferdinand wanted to laugh - Hubert really did care for him, didn’t he? It was true Ferdinand had had that view of courting and love, before and during the war. 

Post-war, however, after Sylvain and Felix got together (and Byleth and Edelgard), he realized that courting processes didn’t really matter. They’d lost too much for something as insignificant as a proper _courting process_ to hold back love. Ferdinand felt a rush of fondness at Hubert, who claimed to be so perceptive, had missed something so obvious about Ferdinand’s attitude changes. Well, he supposed Hubert had been mostly focusing on repairing and building Fódlan up in Edelgard’s image but - the point still remains. They were both idiots, it seemed, for people who claimed to be intelligent. 

Ferdinand drew his hand back, smiling, and looked up at Hubert. He put one hand, the kissed hand, on Hubert’s waist, and the other up to his cheek. Hubert still looked confused but pleased, and with a quiet, murmured, “Hubert, you fool,” Ferdinand kissed him. 

Hubert seemed to freeze as soon as Ferdinand’s lips touched him, and for a panicked second Ferdinand was worried, but after a second Hubert’s arms encircled Ferdinand and kissed back. Hubert’s lips were slightly rough but it was the nicest feeling Ferdinand had ever felt. Their lips were still closed, but that changed quickly once Ferdinand gently pressed his tongue against Hubert’s lips. Hubert breathed and pulled Ferdinand in deeper and Ferdinand mentally let out a happy noise as they kissed.

Ferdinand was unaware if Hubert had any previous romantic experiences, but he didn’t care. Hubert kissed like he acted - determined, almost forceful, completely involved with his task. They’d only just confessed their feelings, but Ferdinand already felt in love with the way Hubert kissed. They kissed for several more long moments, noses brushing against each other before Ferdinand leaned back to catch his breath. He rested his forehead on Hubert’s, lips tingling pleasantly. 

“I think it is fair to say I like you, too, Hubert. One may even say I want to...court you.” The last part of the sentence was in a teasing tone, as Ferdinand smiled, big, bright and unashamed. Hubert let out his signature chuckle, the one that used to frighten Ferdinand, but now filled him with a sense of affection. 

“I-I would like to court you as well if we are using those sorts of words.” Hubert’s voice was teasing as well, his green eyes bright and beautiful and full of affection.

“But, Ferdinand, I have to ask if you’re alright. You seemed...down at the meeting.” Hubert said and the mood noticeably shifted. Ferdinand shifted on his feet uncomfortably, ready to avoid and deflect Hubert’s concern, a dance they had played for several months, but as Ferdinand opened his mouth to deflect, he faltered. 

Hubert cared for him, he had made that much clear. Ferdinand did not want to start their courtship, _their relationship,_ on an insincere footing. With a determined sigh, Ferdinand leaned back slightly, straightening his shoulder. 

“I must admit I was feeling off during the meeting, Hubert. I’ve been feeling...less useful these couple of months. I’m sure it’ll pass but -”

“Ferdinand. You’re an invaluable part of Edelgard’s cabinet. Without you, I don’t know where we’d be today.” Hubert’s voice cut him off, serious as ever, a complete contrast to his voice earlier. Ferdinand, who had been on and off blushing ever since Hubert had walked in, blushed _again,_ and Ferdinand was impressed that he had enough blood to flood his cheeks. 

Ferdinand knew that Hubert’s words were not going to be enough to stop his self-doubting, his self-esteem issues, and his feelings of worthlessness. But they helped. By the goddess, did they help? 

“Thank you, Hubert,” Ferdinand said quietly, and he squeezed Hubert’s gloved hand. Hubert’s hand squeezed his back and Ferdinand felt a _whoosh_ in his stomach, similar to the butterflies that Bernadetta described in her novels. Ferdinand never thought he’d get the chance to feel those feelings, least of all with _Hubert,_ and he was glad he could feel that sensation. 

Hubert let go of his hands and cleared his throat, stepping out of Ferdinand’s personal space. He grabbed his cup and Ferdinand’s and then stood awkwardly in place once he had finished. 

“I must apologize, Ferdinand, but I didn't mean to stay this long. I had originally intended to just give you tea but alas,” Hubert shrugged and gave a little smile, which Ferdinand returned in full force, “Would you like to meet for tea later in the evening? I could bring the cakes you seem to like so much?” Hubert’s question, which seemed on the surface confident and poised, had a sense of nervousness that only a person knew him well could catch. Ferdinand felt a rush of affection at Hubert’s nervousness as if Ferdinand hadn’t _just_ kissed him. 

“Yes,” Ferdinand said, trying to seem confident and poised as well, “I would love that.” Hubert nodded, his lips quirking again, and turned towards the door. Ferdinand watched him head to the door, his hands reaching up to brush his hair behind his ears.

“Also, Ferdinand?” Hubert’s voice startled him as he stood by the door of Ferdinand’s office, body poised to leave but head turned towards Ferdinand. 

“Yes, Hubert?” 

“The hair suits you, darling.” Hubert smiled at him before opening the door and leaving, probably to do his duties. Ferdinand couldn’t help smiling at his leaving form and brushed his fingers against his lips, still overwhelmed with joy at the turn of events. 

He sat down in his chair at his desk and looked at himself at the mirror. His hair was very reminiscent of Yuri's hair but Ferdinand found he liked it. Maybe others wouldn’t but it was time for Ferdinand to like himself and his choices. 

He pulled out the papers in his desk drawers (he still had work to do, after all) and let the rush of Hubert’s confession and their kiss urge him to work. He felt like the luckiest and happiest man in all of Fódlan. 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr (@ hilda-valentine)


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